Sidney's Zombie: Part One.

Last week's face-eating incident in Florida left anyone with a hint of foresight anxiously awaiting the emergence of zombie hordes created by the usual relentless pyramid scheme of the undead. Yes yes, I know that the whole thing has been blamed on some sort of new drug, but honestly, would you buy a drug that made you eat people's faces?  Certainly not my idea of a good time. 

Obviously the whole drug story is just part of the usual cover-up.  In fact, this is exactly how the end of the world starts in all the books and movies dealing with that as a topic: first denial, then escalation.

But you have to wonder a little bit about the whole zombie thing.  After all, the very concept of the walking dead is contradictory - how do you logically explain the whole idea of dead people strolling about in search of brains?  So, after some thought and consideration, I give to you mortis ambulatus: colloquially (and utterly without modesty) Sidney's Zombie.

*  *  *

Let us consider the humble virus.  Interestingly, rather like zombies, viruses are not really alive by standard biological standards, but persist in performing activities that mimic life, like doing their best to go forth and multiply.  Given the manner in which zombies are created and operate, let's assume that the zombie "disease" is a viral phenomenon, like ebola or AIDS.

Like those two diseases, the zombie virus is best served by existence in as many hosts as possible - if not strength, there's certainly survival in numbers.  And, like its colleagues, the zombie virus relies on exchange of biological material to infect new hosts.

All three of these diseases are fatal if left untreated - and in many cases fatal even with treatment. Ebola is a fast killer - in fact, almost too fast to be efficient. Ebola basically liquifies its host, turning flesh and organs into a big juicy bag of skin filled with ebola vectors, but does it so quickly that the host loses the ability to move around and infect people. AIDS, on the other hand, gives its hosts a lot more time (relatively speaking) for infection.  Either way, once the host is dead, both these viruses are pretty much finished if they haven't already managed to make new friends.

And there lies the superiority of the zombie virus. The untreated fatality rate seems to be 100%*, but unlike its siblings, the zombie virus doesn't let death stand in the way of finding new victims.  One can only admire the evolutionary development that led to such a brilliant solution to this fundamental problem.

I'd like to keep this discussion readable, so we'll take a little break, and then come back and look at how the zombie virus does its job.

- Sid

* Generally zombie movies don't discuss the idea of treating victims because most people who are infected through zombie bites die as a result of the wound - or wounds - and don't really have enough time for the virus to kill them.  However, the first Resident Evil movie includes a drug that treats the zombie "disease".

DISCLAIMER: I'm certain that other people have speculated as to the science of zombies, but I've deliberately avoided doing any research.  As such, my thoughts on this topic are unsullied by any sort of accurate scientific knowledge.

 

"Tonight, the part of Vancouver will be played by ..."

A new science fiction series called Continuum has just started up on Showcase.  The plot deals with political terrorists who manage to escape execution in 2077 by time-jumping to 2012.  One of the cops doing security at the execution is accidentally pulled back in time with the terrorists, and she undertakes the task of tracking down and neutralizing them before they remold the future by changing the past.

After watching the first episode, my initial reaction was neither here nor there. I'm pretty much up to speed on time travel plot options, and they haven't broken new ground as far as I'm concerned, but the writers do display a clear understanding of how the game is played.  The effects were acceptable but not brilliant, and as with any new science fiction program they've followed the tradition of loading the call sheet with actors from defunct SF shows:  William B. Davis, the Smoking Man from X-Files; Lexa Doig, who played Rommie on Andromeda; Victor Webster from Mutant X; and Tony Amendola - Bra'tac from Stargate SG-1.

However, I do have to give them credit for doing something unique.  Continuum is filmed in Vancouver, as so many other movies and TV shows have been - but it also takes place in Vancouver!  Yes, someone is finally producing a science fiction series in which Vancouver doesn't pretend to be Seattle, or New York, or Metropolis, or any one of a dozen other cities.  It was actually sort of fun to see the heroine wondering where she is, and having the computer wizard who is monitoring her implant cheerfully announce, "Corner of Pender and Beatty!"

- Sid

Probably not much like Hoegaarden.

There's a marvellous little microbrewery called Steamworks located in downtown Vancouver.  They brew a good selection of beers including a nice lager, they're in a great location, the food is tasty, and if you sit near the windows on the north side it's a good view provided that you like train tracks. 

A couple of months ago on the way to work, I noticed that a maintenance problem with one of the letters in their neon signage had changed the entire direction of their branding, but when I ran up at lunch to take a picture for the blog, they seemed to have resolved the issue.  It popped up now and then over the next couple of weeks, but I could never reconcile its appearance with the schedule for my morning commute, availability of camera equipment, and lack of pouring down rain, and finally it seemed to go away completely.

When my department had lunch at Steamworks on Friday, I was reminded of the signage thing, and mentioned it to my manager Donovan, because as a longtime player of World of Warcraft, I thought he'd appreciate it.  He found it amusing enough that I decided to fire up Photoshop and redo the Steamworks signage to replicate the problem:

The "orcs with a k" spelling is really more of a Warhammer 40K thing than Warcraft, but I still think that Steam Orks would be a great name for a brewery, and let's face it, it's unlikely that orcs would be overly concerned with the finer points of spelling.  I can just imagine being seated by a surly green-skinned monstrosity with tusks and pointed ears, and then watching frantic goblins equipped with a variety of steampunk tools and accessories struggling with a wheezing, bubbling fermentation tank in order to produce a pint of Saruman's White. (And I bet that hardly anyone would ever be brave enough - or drunk enough - to chat up the waitresses.*)

Seriously, I think that the idea of a Tolkien-themed brewery is a marketable concept, and why not call it Steam Orks?  I think that it has a nice, um, ring to it.

- Sid

* I was hoping to put up a picture for this, but trust me, you do NOT want to see some of the things that come up if you do a Google™ image search for "sexy orc".